


It's Cold Outside

by viceversa



Category: NCIS
Genre: A healthy mix of hijinks and trauma, Cabin Fic, F/M, Fluff, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Romance, Snowed In, eventual cuddling, it's the best time of the year, one bed, that's right boys and girls, to relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-01 06:54:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21426517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viceversa/pseuds/viceversa
Summary: Gibbs has to run up to his cabin to find a file, and Jack tags along. But will the oncoming winter storm affect their quick trip, snowing them in and forcing them to confront their feelings?Of course it will.
Relationships: Jethro Gibbs/Jacqueline "Jack" Sloane
Comments: 63
Kudos: 211





	1. Chapter 1

1

Jack walked down to the bullpen with a case file in her hand and a smile on her face. Something about the day just felt good to her - like something was coming that she’d be happy about. And after the weeks (months) of shit she’d had, change like that felt great. Even the prospect of it.

The team - as she labeled them in her head, because there were more teams than just _his_ team but they were The Team, Her Team - were in the midst of a conversation surrounding Gibbs’ desk.

“I can’t go, I have the most insight on him and the transcripts are only half done.” Bishop bowed out first, with a hint of regret in her voice.

“Well I can’t go either,” Nick piggybacked. “I have to uh, stay here and do the - the reports and call the local LEOs again and —“

Nick paused at a glare from Gibbs, who was sitting at his desk and looking half amused at the chaos surrounding him.

“Not that a road trip with you would be anything but great, Gibbs, boss, of course —“

McGee shifted, visibly uncomfortable at his inevitable turn. “I, uh, the witnesses need to be re-interviewed and with Bishop and Torres busy with—“

Jack suddenly thought of the most brilliant idea she’d had in ages, and it came to her in a split second.

“I’ll go!” The team all turned and looked at her, just realizing they’d had an audience for a little while. Jack approached the group and stood next to Nick at the end of Gibbs’ desk. Smiling, she looked at all of them briefly before turning to Gibbs.

“Where are we goin’, _boss_?” The wink she gave at the end of the question was unintentional, but the reward of Gibbs’ eyes widening was more than enough.

At his silence, Bishop spoke up. “His cabin. He’s got files there, _apparently,_” she looked a little harder at Gibbs at the word, “and they might be helpful to the case.”

At Jack’s questioning look, Gibbs finally spoke.

“I can get ‘em myself.”

“Absolutely not!”

Bishop’s concern made Jack smile, and at the slight flush of her cheeks and Nick’s widening grin she jumped in. “Your team is right - we don’t know if the bad guys know where you keep that stuff, or if they have the resources to follow you, so you need a partner, partner.”

Gibbs sighed and she knew she had him.

Turning to McGee, she held out the file. “The witness you thought was sketchy - I’ve got news for you.”

“Which is?”

“He’s sketchy. Bad past, probably ties to whatever gang-offshoot these guys are in charge of. But he’d got a girlfriend and a sick mother he cares about, which is probably what he’s afraid of losing.”

“You’re thinking blackmail?”

“It’s a strong possibility. See if he’ll come in to talk, or find a neutral location - there could be someone watching him in the neighborhood.”

McGee nodded and went back to his desk, the younger agents following his lead. Relatively alone, Jack turned to Gibbs.

“When do we leave?” Her voice was intentionally bright, anything to chip away at whatever walls of annoyance he was trying to hold on to.

“Now. Grab your gear, meet ya downstairs in ten.”

Jack mock-saluted him and turned on her heel to get her things from upstairs. If anything, this little trip to the woods would be entertaining. Maybe even a chance to talk - really talk - to Gibbs.

-

Thirty miles of silence. That’s what the trip had gotten her so far.

“So you built the cabin yourself?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“How long did that take you?”

“A few summers.”

It wasn’t uncomfortable silence. She’d never cowered in the presence of the great Gibbs, but she had thought that a little small talk wouldn’t kill him. However, her attempts were quickly shot down with monosyllables.

Typical.

So Gibbs flipped on his old school country station and Jack decided to lean back and enjoy the ride. The leaves had turned weeks ago, but there were remaining patches of color along the route. This was about to be her third winter in D.C., but the cold still caught her by surprise. Memories of California danced warmly in the periphery of her brain, keeping her warm inside despite the cold snap of the last few days.

If all went according to plan, they’d reach the cabin in just under three hours before it got too dark to navigate, look over the files, turn back and take shifts to drive back late.

Gibbs had had the audacity to ask if she’d brought long johns, just in case.

What she did have in her go bag at work would have to do. She’d already changed her slacks and boots to warmer and more practical jeans and sneakers. The sweater that she’d worn to work was warm, a creme colored turtleneck that had done the trick in her cold apartment that morning.

Her long coat, a dark navy wool, was draped over her legs as a makeshift blanket. Gibbs had daunted an apology about the lack of strong heat in his truck, but it was the best choice between it, her mini, and the agency’s car for the roads leading up to the cabin.

The country crooner finished his song and the radio popped and crackled, announcing the station name and host.

_“And now, the weather. There’s good news! The cold front that’s been lingering over the area is finally on it’s way out. But wait - there’s also bad news. It’s being pushed out from the North with an even colder front - one that promises to bring some snow and ice with it. Look for dropping temperatures tonight and precipitation starting sometime after midnight.”_

Jack cleared her throat and glanced at Gibbs. He looked as unflappable as ever.

“Do you think the roads will be okay coming back?”

Gibbs shrugged and she almost smacked his arm at his silence when he spoke. “They’ll have to be. Or we’ll just stay up there.”

“Stay?”

Another shrug.

“I mean - do you have food up there? Firewood?”

“Jack.” He emphasized her name just enough to make her realize her voice had gone up in her worry. “We’ll be fine. Plenty’a stuff up there. Hadn’t closed it up for the winter yet.”

“Alright,” she reasoned. “We may not have to stay anyway. The guy said it wouldn’t start until after midnight, and we’ve got plenty of time.” Jack was aware she was talking primarily to herself at this point, but she found it helped. 

She wasn’t squeamish at spending the night in the woods. God knows she’d thought about it more than once or twice when it came to _Gibbs’ _cabin and them being alone. It was the imagery of being _trapped_ in a tiny cabin with no escape that left her feeling out of control.

Jack felt Gibbs’ eyes on her and she looked back at him. She shrugged off his concern and gestured to him. “Gun it, Gunny. Let’s get there so we don’t have to skate back home.”

The slight smirk on his face warmed her and she looked back outside at the setting sun, trying not to notice the dark clouds collecting to the north.


	2. Chapter 2

2

The cabin was bigger than she’d pictured it, sitting on a foundation that kept it off the ground. She barely had time to take it in with the light of the headlights before Gibbs shut off the truck.

“C’mon.” He handed her a flashlight and clicked on his own before sliding out of the truck.

Jack slipped on her coat and followed him, thankful to be on solid ground after driving on a mostly dirt road for a few miles. Gibbs opened the door and she shut it quickly behind her, shutting out the icy wind.

Watching as Gibbs lit a few kerosene lamps, Jack looked around. There wasn’t much to look at, but all of it was handmade and necessary to be there. A simple cabinet, a few camp chairs around a square table, a sturdy looking fireplace with a well-used grate, and a bed just big enough for Gibbs to stretch out on.

Gibbs went to a footlocker on the far side of the wall and unlocked it, moving aside a few quilts before pulling out a box of files. She didn’t know why he kept files locked up in his cabin, and she didn’t ask. It wasn’t her business - and besides, she knew that in so many years in this business one made enemies and had cases that haunted them. Gibbs had more of both than she could count. Needless to say, he had his reasons.

Jack sure had hers.

Taking another quick look around, Jack joined Gibbs at the table where he wordlessly handed her some files.

“It’s in one of these,” he said, taking half the pile for himself. “I think it’s the last name - O’Reilley - it’s what’s familiar. Murder case, shady characters hanging around, possible gang ties and a dead end.”

Ah - these were cold cases. A particular kind of haunt.

“Got it.”

Jack sat on a stool opposite to him, angling the files to read them in the lamplight. There were all sorts of cases that he’d kept a record of. He had copies of complete files that he’d written notes in the margins of. So this is what he came up here to do - be alone, brood in silence over past mistakes, and fish. Jack had to stop herself from becoming too involved with each file, looking only for the name and potential gang connections.

-

Twenty minutes later, he found what he was looking for.

“Here, ten years ago.” Jack slid her stool around the table to see the file he spread out. “Young woman, found face down in a ditch outside a base. ID’d as the wife of a Marine. Margaret Jameson - maiden name O’Keefe.”

Jack looked at the pictures and top sheet of the report. “It’s the same as last week.”

The more recent victim was Katherine Horner, maiden name McGrath. Both young women of Irish decent, both fair skinned with more than a little red in their hair, both wives of Marines. Both dead for seemingly no reason.

Jack leaned in closer to Gibbs, their heads nearly touching at the temples, as they read the report. Her hand darted out to stop his, seeing the name just before he flipped the page. “Here - O’Reilley, boyfriend of a cousin of the victim. She was interviewed, didn’t know much, but someone thought that the boyfriend sounded hinky.”

Jack was so intent with trying to piece together the clues that she didn’t realize her had was practically holding Gibbs’ until he shifted. She pulled back a little too quickly, but he made no mention.

Gibbs made no move to back away - if anything, he shifted a little closer so he could get out his phone. He flipped it open and hit a speed dial, putting the phone on speaker.

_“McGee.”_

“The name is John O’Reilley. He’s the connection.”

_“You’ve got Bishop and Torres too - I don’t remember interviewing an O’Reilley?”_

“You didn’t,” supplied Jack. She had looked over all the witness statements earlier that day. “But Janine, the secretary, she mentioned a boyfriend named Johnny. It’s got to be him.”

_“Oh yeah, Janine,” said Torres._

There was a pause over the line, and Jack could sense that Bishop and McGee were looking at him. She looked at Gibbs, mirroring his smirk.

_“What? She was cute - almost gave her my number before she started blabbering about Johnny this, Johnny that.”_

_“Oh, yeah, that’s why you —“ Bishop began to mock._

“Enough!” Gibbs said, loudly but not unkindly. “Go home. Get some sleep. Start fresh in the morning with our new lead.”

_“Got it.”_

_“Will you guys be coming back tonight?” Bishop asked, a concerned tone to her voice. “It’s already starting to come down here.”_

Jack looked up surprised. She hadn’t thought of the approaching weather since they’d started riding files. Standing, she went to the door and pulled it open, clicking on the flashlight Gibbs had given her.

It was practically a white out - and how had she not noticed the sound of the wind? In the three second glance she took before slamming the door shut, she knew they wouldn’t be leaving that night. And maybe not the next night either.

She turned back to Gibbs, wide eyed, and shook her head.

“We’re staying tonight. Roads are too bad. Update in the mornin’” Gibbs said.

_“Okay, just be safe! Call if you —“_

Gibbs snapped the phone shut and rose, taking the two steps to stand in front of Jack. She held his gaze, trying to stamp down her rising fear.

_No reason to panic. It’s irrational. You’re safe. You’re with Gibbs. In his cabin. It’s just cold outside. That’s all._

But if that was all, why was her vision going dark?

Gibbs was suddenly close - very close. His blue eyes practically glowed in the low light, and she locked on to them like a buoy in a storm.

“Hey, Jack, you’re fine. We’re fine. We’re safe. The storm ain’t gonna come in and hurt us. Worse thing that’s gonna happen is that the bathroom’s outside.”

A joke. She’s nearing a panic attack - complete with sweat and shallow breathing - and menages to break her out of it with a bad joke.

“Okay,” Jack replies. “Okay, yeah.”

“Alright.”

A deep breath. “What do we do now?”

“Now,” Gibbs said, taking a step back (and boy did she want to close that distance), “I’m gonna build a fire and you are gonna grab the bags out of the truck. Alright?”

The chore division was less than chivalrous, but he knew she needed the air - as cold and bracing as it was. Jack nodded, buttoned up her coat, sent a grateful smile his way, and braced herself for the cold.


	3. Chapter 3

3

Jack prevailed against the storm, even though she nearly went ass over teakettle juggling the bags on the slippery steps up to the porch.

Gibbs was there, opening the door just as she needed it.

“I’ll be back. Gotta hit the head, get more firewood for later.”

Jack set their things down and shuffled over to the fire, dripping snow as she went. She was still warming her hands when Gibbs came back in, thumping the logs into a semi pile in the corner.

“Sorry s’not a luxury hotel. But it’ll do.”

Jack rolled her eyes at his concern. “I’ve spent nights in a cave in the desert - and worse - before. I think we’ll survive.”

Gibbs pulled up a chair close to her - perhaps a little closer than necessary, not that she was complaining - and stuck out his hands toward the fire.

“Forgot to pack gloves.”

“Should be a new rule. Number - what, 65? Never go to the cabin in winter without gloves.” Not her best joke, but it gained her a slight smile from him.

“They’re more guidelines, anyway.”

Jack’s eyes were drawn to his hands. It wasn’t the first time she’d noticed them, but the firelight provided a more covert way to observe them. His long fingers were strong, and it wasn’t hard to imagine them wrapped around a gun or building a boat. She wondered if they were rough to the touch with calluses, warm and heavy on skin.

Gibbs flexed his hands, shaking the feeling back into them, and if it weren’t for her dedicated gaze on the lines of his fingers she wouldn’t have noticed the small mark, but she did.

“Is that a splinter?”

Gibbs looked down, exposing the fleshy underside of his left middle finger. “S’what no gloves and firewood'll get ya,” he muttered, wincing at the wound.

“Here,” Jack shifted, bringing her chair even closer and seizing the opportunity to grab his hand. She held it in both of hers, subtly taking note of the smoothness, the strength contained within, and tilted it to the firelight.

“I can take care of it later—“

She cut him off. “No, no. I see it. Right under the skin.” Leaving one hand to control his, she shifted and unbuttoned her coat.

“It’ll come out in a few days.”

“Or it’ll get infected and your finger will fall off in the wilderness. Where we are currently trapped.” Jack made a noise of accomplishment, brandishing the knife from her pocket. “At least I follow this rule.”

Gibbs’ eyes went wide. “Jack—“

“Jethro,” she mocked teasingly.

Gibbs opened his mouth to reply but never got the chance. Jack swooped up his hand and flicked open her knife, laying the flat, sharp edge of it against the splinter.

“Hold still—“

“Jack watch it!”

“It’s almost—“

"Jeez do ya have to—"

"Would you just!—"

_“Yow!”_

“Got it!” Jack released his hand, flicked the splinter into the fire and tucked her knife back into her jeans.

“Did ya have to take my finger with it?” Gibbs asked incredulously, shaking his hand again.

Jack laughed at his shocked expression, bumping her shoulder against his and then resting there, leaning in and taking his hand back. “Aw, I’m sorry. Kiss it better?”

Again, she didn’t wait for him to answer, but instead of pulling a knife on him she brought his hand up and kissed the back of it, lingering a beat too long.

They sat there little longer, staring into the fire as it tried to warm the cabin around them.

-

They managed to putter around for a few more hours, readying for the evening. They shared a nutritional dinner of jerky, whiskey, and twizzlers over the open case files, looking through them and commenting on a few here and there. Gibbs double checked the connected file, leaving it out on the table when they put the rest away.

Jack wasn’t avoiding the part where they went to sleep, together, in that small bed, but she wasn’t exactly looking forward to it either. Even aside from wanting that to happen under different circumstances, she didn’t have the best record when it came to sleeping through the night.

Gibbs and her had barely talked for all they’d done in the cabin. Jack remembered the high hopes she’d had coming up here with him. Was it really just that afternoon that she’d jumped at the chance to be alone with him? And for what? To confront him or kiss him or make googly eyes at him all to herself?

All she’d done so far was dig a splinter out of his hand (and god, what hands they were…) and not talk at all. Luckily, she had a question. Unluckily, she wasn’t looking forward to the answer.

She stood and buttoned up her coat again. “Hey, Gibbs?”

“Hmm?” He looked up from the fire where he was finishing his whiskey.

“This outhouse you mentioned, care to give me a map?”

Gibbs was a good enough man to hide his smirk but Jack rolled her eyes in response anyway.

“Down the steps, ‘round the right. Hug the wall if you can’t see.”

Jack nodded and went to the door, carrying a flashlight. The wilderness. Not fun. Why did she volunteer to come up here again?

-

There and back again with no incident but literally freezing her ass off, Jack came back inside to a darkened room. Gibbs was perched on the edge of the bed unlacing his boots.

“S’gonna be cold night. Probably best to sleep in our clothes.”

“Well the alternative would be a little cold,” Jack joked. She took off her long coat and lay it over a chair, kicking her snowy sneakers off too. She could barely see in the light of the fire, but it made everything feel warm even with the bite of cold hanging in the air. She turned to the bed, considering.

Almost without thinking, she reached up her sweater and took off her bra, sliding her arms through without taking her sweater or undershirt off. No way she was sleeping in that thing - it was uncomfortable enough to wear for a full day, but it would be awful to sleep in. Plus, it was hell on her back, scratching at her scars in the wrong position. Not to mention that the restraining feeling would remind her body of real restraint and — her thoughts abruptly cut off when she saw the look on Gibbs’ face. His mouth was nearly hanging open.

“What?” Jack asked innocently.

Gibbs blinked and audibly shut his mouth. “Nuthin’.”

Jack believed that like she believe a yeti would wake them with breakfast in bed the next day, but she decided to drop it, much like she dropped her bra and noted exactly the way his eyes tracked it to the rug.

Gibbs cleared his throat and looked anywhere but at her. He leaned back and lay on the far side of the bed, his back to the wall and the blankets bunched up, inviting her to lay in front of him.

_Well_ _then_. Jack followed his direction and lay down, leaving what she hoped was a good few inches between them. He almost immediately leaned into her, enveloping her with the blankets. Jack hadn’t realized how cold she’d been until she had the first hint of warmth from his arm arching over her.

“You covered?”

“Mm? Oh, yeah. Thanks.” _Jesus, Jack. Pull yourself together._

A beat or two of silence passed. Jack couldn’t relax for the sound of her own thoughts yelling at her to relax.

Gibbs shifted slightly behind her. “This okay?”

“We don’t have much of a choice, really. But yeah, this is fine. Finally getting warm.” Jack forcibly shut her own mouth, feeling herself start to ramble.

Yes, she was in bed with Gibbs, in the middle of nowhere, literally cuddling for warmth. Yes, they were fully clothed and their breath mutually smelled like deer jerky and booze. But hell if it wasn’t turning her on - the fire, the seclusion, the closeness. The smell of Gibbs, wrapped all around her…

The look in his eyes when she thoughtlessly took off her bra.

The feeling of his strength when she manhandled a splinter out of his finger.

His voice made her jump slightly.

“I’ll have ta' get up in a few hours for the fire, probably.”

Jack hummed a response, wondering what else Gibbs was thinking, or if somehow laying in bed with her was a total non-event.

“You gonna be okay, warm enough?”

“Oh, yeah.” Was he talking more than usual? Like he was uncomfortable, or nervous? That wasn’t like Gibbs… but then again she’d never been in this situation with him either. She was probably projecting her own feelings, feeling like every moment that went by was another missed chance to say something, to do something.

Minutes went by and Jack was genuinely warming up, still trying to calm her tense muscles, wanting to relax back into his chest.

“M’sorry you got dragged up here. Ya didn’t have to come.” His voice rumbled, quiet but moved down in his chest so she felt the vibrations of him speaking. She shivered.

“Yes I did. I’d be worried sick if you were up here alone.” Jack used the opportunity to shift, leaning back just enough to brush against his shirt.

“I’d be fine.”

Was he trying to start an argument with her? “Well, now you’re fine here with me. In my eye line.”

“Well,” he paused. It was Gibbs who leaned forward, surprising the hell out of Jack when he shifted to have an arm slung lightly over her hip and his chest against her back. Instant warmth flooded her body. “Could be worse company.”

She could practically hear him list off names in his head, Fornell at the top. Jack finally did relax, calming down at Gibbs’ easy demeanor.

Softly, Gibbs finished his thought. “Glad it’s you, though.”

Jack fell asleep with a smile on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> between you and me, Gibbs thought it was hot af when Jack flicked open her knife and was all in charge... and so did I


	4. Chapter 4

4

Jack woke up with panic in her chest.

That was the first thing she noticed. The second was maybe confusion, until she remembered where she was. The third - Gibbs, behind her, she felt him, felt his warmth. The fourth, that it was colder than she expected, but she was sweating. 

The fifth was that she couldn’t breathe.

The sixth, her nightmare slammed back into her skull, and she had to get out _she had to get out right now._

Jack escaped from under the blankets and stood, half stumbling in the darkness, off balance from panic and unfamiliar surroundings. Faintly, she noticed Gibbs shift on the bed. She had to stop this feeling from rising, form overtaking her entirely.

“Jack?”

The question was soft and concerned, but she could barely register it. The terror crawling up her chest, the darkness warring with the flickering firelight, the double sensation of heat and cold making her skin light on fire. The need to escape, the need to find control.

She needed air. She needed to get outside and calm down.

She wanted to say something, signal to Gibbs that she had to go outside again, to not get up even though he was already almost standing. She let out noises and hoped they were enough.

The door. It was right there, but it wouldn’t budge.

Jack suddenly snapped back into reality, and the world was all sharp edges and danger inside.

“Oh, _fuck_.”

“What?”

She didn’t know she was speaking, but Gibbs would help her - she knew he would help.

“The door - it’s stuck. Where are you?”

“I’m over here - hold on.”

His dark figure lumbered toward her and she shivered, feeling hot and cold all at once, suddenly wishing she were anywhere else.

Why couldn’t they have gone to a nice beach? Or a four star hotel? No - the location wasn’t the problem. It was the situation. Trapped, heavy pain, bad dreams.

Any of those could cause a panic attack on a good day. This was just a special combination.

The winter air outside would help knock her senses in line.

GIbbs moved her gently to the side and used his body weight to un-lock the door, no doubt cracking the ice on the other side. “You ready?”

“Open it, please.” Her voice barely registered through her tension.

He opened the door to the cabin and Jack darted out into the too-cold world, taking just a few steps to grasp the railing of the porch in both hands. It was snow covered ice, shocking her system. She held on tighter.

This was good. This was coping and working through the panic instead of letting it envelop her. This is what countless therapists have helped her to develop.

Her socks were frozen and damp almost immediately, and any warmth she had made while sleeping gone with the freezing wind.

Jack had her eyes closed and tried to focus on her senses.

Wind on her face. It was biting. She could hear it rustle through the trees, whip around the cabin. Cold. It was colder than she’d expected, but the cold was good. The snow had stopped. It was quiet but for the wind.

Breathe in, one, two, three; breathe out, one, two, three, four, five.

The cold grounded her. She was at Gibbs’ cabin. With Gibbs. She was okay.

Infinitesimally, her tense muscles began to relax. 

Breathe in. Breathe out.

The wind calmed, both outside and in her chest. Her head cleared.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

She shivered. Damn, it was cold.

A throat cleared behind her, alerting her to his presence before he approached. It also served as a question - _Can I help? Will you let me in?_

Jack turned slightly, her torso welcoming him even as her eyes stayed shut.

“Got a blanket.”

She half smiled at his warning of contact, sighing immediately when she was wrapped with a blanket from behind. The scenes of Gibbs and the fire filled her mind and she felt herself come back down from the precipice of a panic attack.

Gibbs followed, slowly enough to let her escape if she needed, but she didn’t want to - instead fell back into his chest, hiding her freeing hands in the blanket and letting him wrap his arms around her.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Open your eyes.

It was a stunning night. Trees obscured most of the sky but what she could make out was clear and sprinkled with bright stars. The snowstorm had moved on, but it left inches in its wake, the frosty white reflecting the natural lighting from the night sky just enough to see.

“Y’okay?”

Breathe in.

“Yeah. I think so.”

Breathe out. 

“Let’s go back inside.”

-

Gibbs had obviously attended to the fire while she was collecting herself outside, and she was grateful. Once they’d returned inside, her feet had gone from numb to painful prickling, her hands suffering similarly.

Jack wasted little time in shucking her frozen socks, keeping the blanket around her as she sat on their chairs from just a few hours ago, stretching her feet close to the fire. Gibbs sat next to her, toeing off the shoes he’d had the foresight to slip on before getting her.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Jack shivered and shrugged, pulling the blanket closer around her. Gibbs slung an arm around her, adding his warmth to her space.

“It’s the usual crap.” Jack figured that honesty was best. She had nothing to hide, and he’d likely empathize with her demons after all. “New location, feeling of being trapped, nightmares. All in the recipe for a panic attack.”

Gibbs made a noise of acknowledgement. “The cold help?”

“Shocks the system. Brings me back down, grounds me to reality. All of that.” Jack sighed and buried her nose into the blanket. “But now I’m just cold.”

Gibbs came even closer, encasing her in a full hug. “I can fix that. Soon as you can feel your feet again, we’ll get back in bed.”

The quiet reassurance in his voice warmed her and she leaned heavily into his embrace. Minutes passed in silence and Jack felt herself getting sleepy again. Distantly, she wondered what time it was. Finally feeling thawed, Jack shifted and they made their way back to the bed.

How much of their settling in was intentional touching as opposed to just the downside of a small bed shared with a friend was up for debate, but they moved until they were both evenly covered and spooned up like earlier - his arm around her hips included. Jack didn’t have it in her to apologize for waking them up, but she did need to say something.

Turning to face Gibbs, she met his eyes in the flickering light of the fire. “Thank you.”

Gibbs tucked his head, angling closer to her face, smiling slightly. Jack’s heart went _thump_, a stark contrast to the panicked beats that woke her. Boldly, she moved her feet to tangle with his warm legs, running along his jeans to the back of his calves, seeking warmth.

“You alright now, though?” The question was genuine and soft, private even in their seclusion.

He was closer now. And warmer. And maybe it was the adrenaline wearing off or the influence of their close proximity and Gibbs… Gibbs being _there_ and _right_ and _him_. But she leaned up just enough to answer with a gentle kiss, one he returned with just enough pressure to be real, and she felt warm, warm, warm for the first time that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let's hope for a slibbs ep tomorrow night!


	5. Chapter 5

5

Jack was dreaming.

It was a beautiful day. The sun was out, the sky a clear blue, the kind of color that made her think of piercing eyes and silver hair.

Gibbs. He was there too. They were there together. A clear day on a calm lake. Why a lake? Why the woods? His cabin was there, transplanted in her mind, with modified surroundings. They were floating. A small fishing boat, facing each other, lines in the water, waiting. Smiling. The sun warmed her face, it made him smile. Why fishing? Why not surfing in California, or sunbathing in Mexico?

It was him. All him. With her fitting in so perfectly. A little out of place, a little different, but still there. Not clashing. Complimenting.

It may not be her first choice, but it was making Gibbs smile, and she loved that, and it was… it was good.

-

She felt peaceful, and it carried into her waking, letting her enjoy the feeling of being enveloped in warm blankets on a winter day, wrapped around his body, legs entwined, head on his chest.

She breathed deep, taking in Gibbs’ sleep-warm scent from the middle of his chest, stretching uncontrollably against him. God, it felt good to wake up wrapped around someone.

Gibbs shifted, and Jack wondered if he had just woken up or if he’d been awake and thinking of her. She was too content to be embarrassed by the overly romantic thought, especially not when she felt Gibbs slide his hand up her side, rubbing at her shoulder.

“Hey, cowboy,” she said scratchily.

The remark got her a slight laugh that jostled her when his chest jumped. She continued the movement he started, sliding up in an echo of the night before.

“Mornin’” he said.

And even though his breath smelled like whiskey and jerky - and hers probably did too - she couldn’t help herself but to meet his smile with a kiss. It was just as soft and slow as the one from the night before, and he deepened it. Jack could feel herself heat up, her tongue meeting his for the first time, it was electric. She slid up him to gain leverage, giving as much as she got. God, he knew how to kiss.

His hands weren’t idle, one supporting her over him, the other sliding back down her side and around, over her ass and squeezing it, causing her to groan into his mouth and jolt forward.

Jack broke away to breathe. She hadn’t gone so quickly from sleeping to a hundred in a long time, and her senses were flooded. Point one being that she was almost sweating at the spike of heat they’d created. She turned and flung the quilts that formed their cocoon on to the floor, quickly whipping off her sweater as well, revealing the white shirt underneath.

When she turned back to face Gibbs, she paused. He was flushed as well, pink high on his cheeks, and his eyes practically sparkled with heat.

“Hey.”

Jack kissed him again. She couldn’t help it - now that she had permission, she wasn’t sure how to stop. Now she had the freedom to straddle him, hovering high up his chest to leverage her kissing, making it deep. His hair was soft as she ran her fingers through it, her body moving in tandem with the pressure of his exploring hands.

They didn’t need some long, drawn out conversation. The wall that had been between them for months simply came crashing down, and that was that. Or so she thought.

He paused the kiss this time, his fingertips under the sides of her shirt, rubbing back and forth, in constant motion.

He leveled a look at her, trying to break through the haze they had created. Jack sighed in response, shifting against him just to feel his body under her.

“Just say it,” she urged, sensing his need for clarification and honesty. Not that she would mind a little verbal acknowledgement either.

“You sure about this? ‘Bout me?”

The responses that sprang to mind all sounded too cheesy and cliché so she forced them back down. Instead, she blinked long and slow, and said, “I am sure about you.”

The full weight of emotion in her voice was unexpected but she didn’t regret it, hoping that he caught it all. His smile said he did. His answering kiss returned the sentiment.

They’d sort of slid into this, into a place in their friendship where it easily became more. This wasn’t the stuttered flirting and awkward dates Sloane had suffered through in previous relationships. This was just... it was right.

-

She slid down on his length and moaned. “Oh, fuck yes.” Her body was so hot and tight with tension, every sensation set tingles over her skin and she trembled with it.

Gibbs was lost in the sensation below her and he looked glorious for it. She moved, feeling the delicious strain in her muscles, and began to ride him slowly but intensely. The contrast of cool air at her back to fire between them was electric.

His hands flew up from the bed sheet and to her hips, helping her even as his feet scrambled for purchase, thrusting up to meet her.

“Jesus,” he groaned as she shifted.

“Close, Jethro.” She was angled forward, eyes closed with the sensation of sex. It had been so long since she had someone, and heaven help, it had never felt quite like this.

Suddenly her world shifted. Gibbs, bless him always surprising her, rolled them over so quickly they were still joined. Jack barely had time to breathe before he took control, joined close, his breath on her neck, her thighs spread and trembling. It wasn’t long before her wandering hands began to claw at his back, urging him for more, more, and then the dam broke, and it was glorious.

He followed her, breathing harshly, reverent in his touch, his mind going a million ways all focused around one beautiful being underneath him.

-

They lay side by side, a singular quilt protecting them from the pervasive chill in the cabin. Jack was half out of her mind with endorphins, smiling lazily at nothing, her eyes hooded.

This _is_ what she’d hoped for when she volunteered to come along, after all. And as shallow as _hot sex with Gibbs in his cabin_ was for a wish, the reality was all the more fulfilling.

“Jack… you…” Gibbs was still a little out of breath, and to be honest she felt just as overwhelmed. “Us…”

She’d never gone so far in her daydreams to imagine the pillow talk that would come out of Gibbs. Jack turned and propped herself on her arm so she could look at him. “Yeah?” Her reply was low, but her smile betrayed her feelings. “Me too, Gibbs.”

She could see the question in his eyes, the one reflected in her own. But whatever the answer was, she knew she wanted to figure it out with him. With her free hand she smoothed along his forehead and down his cheek, leaning in for another kiss that was just as gentle as their first.

“I want this, Jacqueline. M’not gonna give up on it.”

Jack smiled somehow even brighter. “Good. You’d have a hard time getting rid of me at this rate.” She leaned onto his chest and snuggled in close, taking in the feel of his arm wrapping around her securely. “I want to see this through, Jethro.”

The bright morning light filtered into the cabin, sparkling in its intensity as it reflected off a world of white just outside. Minutes later, they were asleep.

-

“_Yes_, we’re still alive. We’re fine.” Jack cut through the barrage of questions from Bishop. She was touched that the young agent was so worried, but she could be a little intense. Especially when Jack had just woken up.

_“And what about the roads? D.C. didn’t get much more than a dusting after all, so we’re heading out for O’Reilley in about half an hour. But we can wait—“_

“No,” Jack quickly replied. Gibbs shifted next to her, finally waking up himself. They’d slept for a few hours, each of them getting up quickly to run outside to relieve themselves, and Jack was really only up again because the buzzing of Gibbs’ phone woke her.

Bishop was in a tizzy because it only woke her on the third time she called. “No, the roads are blocked up here. Ice and snow. We’ll probably be stuck for a few days, but we’ve got supplies.”

A brief silence came down the line, and Jack could feel Bishop trying to justify sending out the National Guard for them.

_“Are you sure? I mean, we—“_

A warm hand took the phone from her before she could respond. “Bishop,” he said, his voice sleep-rusty and damn sexy.

Jack turned and tucked her head back into his shoulder, stretching along him as he spoke with his agent.

_“Gibbs! Sloane just said—“_

“We’re fine, Bishop. Do you have O’Reilley?”

_“Well, um, no, not yet. We’re going to—“_

“Then do your job!” Gibbs let out a tiny sigh and Jack watched his face as it softened. She had no doubt that if he’d been talking to anyone else the conversation would’ve ended there with a snap of his phone. “We’ll check in later for an update. Got it?”

Jack couldn’t hear Bishop’s reply, but Gibbs seemed satisfied when he hung up.

“A few more days, huh?”

Jack didn’t pretend to have the decency to blush at his teasing. “What? The roads are bad. And we do have supplies.”

Gibbs grinned in response, and she’d be lying if it wasn’t one of the most beautiful things she’d seen.

“Jerky and whiskey don’t count much for supplies.”

“I think we’ll make do,” she replied, knowing full well that there was more than that in his storage.

“And to think, you were worried we’d freeze to death up here.” Gibbs poked at her rib and she jumped, shoving him slightly even as the smile she had betrayed her feelings.

Her mind quickly changed gears, her body flushing at their scantily clad proximity. He must’ve noticed too, a smug look highlighting the mischievous twinkle in his eye.

Jack kissed the smirk right off his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for your support! let me know what you thought!

**Author's Note:**

> it's the most wonderful time of the year  
I'm on tumblr at viceversawrites :D


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